Complete
by BensonFan711
Summary: Ed Tucker got the scare of his life when Olivia Benson was taken hostage in Townhouse Incident. A oneshot of what happened after that horrible day, and how it brought the two of them closer together. Tuckson.


**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns all. I just take the characters out to play and return them (mostly) unharmed.**

 **Complete**

Ed Tucker's lips curled into a smirk when he checked his ringing phone, and her name was on the display. They hadn't been dating long, but long enough that calling her his girlfriend wasn't a stretch. It was new and fresh and exhilarating. And yet, there was an easiness to it that he had never experienced in any relationship before her. Kicking around his mind, like a racquetball that won't stop bouncing long enough to be caught, was the idea that he loved her; that she was the one who completed him.

"Social or professional call?," he asked as the smile played across his face.

" _Ed,"_ she began. As soon as he heard the tone in her voice, the smile disappeared from his face. _"Ed, I need you on the active hostage call."_ He had heard the calls on the radio. He knew there was a situation developing, and that an officer was involved. But, it couldn't be…could it?

"Wait, I heard there was an officer involved. It's…..you," he said, his heart slamming into his stomach as the words fell from his lips. Her voice was replaced by a gruff male voice.

" _You'd better get down here fast unless you want me to put a bullet in her head."_

"Benson!," he yelled into the phone, but the line was already disconnected.

Ed Tucker was nothing if not professional. He had mastered the art of switching off his emotions and doing what needed to be done. It had served him well over the years, and it was what allowed to be suspicious of everyone, including other officers. That skill proved to be vital today. Every time he spoke to Olivia her voice was even and steady. But, he could hear the slight twinge of fear that only those who knew her would detect. The hours slipped by. He used every play in the negotiation handbook, and it didn't hurt that, even though she had a gun to her head, Olivia was his ally inside.

Before he knew it, it was over. The gunman was dead on the sidewalk, and she was in his arms, shaken, but alive.

He didn't want to let her go, but he knew he had to. They weren't public with their relationship, and she hadn't told Noah about him yet. In fact, she had told him – point blank – that there was no way she was introducing him to Noah until they figured out if this was serious or not. He understood. It was that same fierce, protective quality about her that he loved. And, maybe someday, she would trust him enough to let him into her protected circle. But, someday wasn't today, no matter how badly he needed her.

He waited until he knew Noah would be sound asleep before knocking softly on her door.

"I know, I know…it's too late for me to be here. 'What if Noah wakes up?' But please, hear me out first. Please…" he said, the minute she opened the door.

"It's not that I don't want you here, but you said it yourself – what if Noah wakes up? I'm not ready to have that conversation with him," she said.

"I know. Look, Olivia, a few hours ago, I watched you walk out of a house with a gun pressed against your skull. If he had pulled the trigger…I can't even think about that, even though that was all I thought about most of the day," he said. "Please, just one cup of coffee, and I swear, I'm out of here. You can tell Noah it's work stuff if he wakes up."

"To be honest, I think some company would be nice," she said, stepping back so that he could come in. Ed noticed that she had changed out of her normal professional clothes and slipped into a pair of baggy plaid cotton pajama pants and a plain light blue T-shirt, and she had swept her hair back with a clip that was just begging to be plucked away. He couldn't take his eyes off her, thinking she was more beautiful that he had ever seen her, as she tinkered with the coffee pot.

He walked behind her as she was filling the pot with water, placed his right hand over hers, and shut the water off with his left.

"I don't really want any coffee," he whispered into her ear. "Do you?" His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for her to respond. It was quite likely that he would get what he wanted, which was as much physical contact with her as she would allow. It was also just as likely that she would whip around, throw the water on him, and demand that he leave her home immediately.

She seemed to be considering her options, so he tipped his head slightly and kissed the spot on her neck, just behind her ear. He had committed that particular spot to memory the first time they had made love after eliciting a slight whimper so soft, and so feminine, and yet so desperate, that it had surprised him with it's delicateness and femininity. She whimpered again and dropped the coffee pot in the sink.

"Ed…" she said, in that damn sexy, needy voice.

"Hm?" he murmured into her neck.

"Did you really come over here for a booty call? With my son in the next room?" she asked. He stopped kissing her and stepped back.

"No. Of course not," he said. "I'm sorry. I just…I was waiting for the gunshot, you know? I kept expecting to hear it, and then when I finally did…it was our guys. And you were standing there on that sidewalk, stunned, but alive, and he was on the ground. Olivia, I'm never going to get that image out of my mind. I started to imagine my days without you, and…forget it. I shouldn't have come." He turned back towards the door. He was an idiot. What was he thinking? That she would just jump into bed with him mere hours after that?

"Ed," she said softly. He turned back towards her, apology and disappointment written on his face. "I called you because Joe asked me who at NYPD cared if I lived or died." He couldn't speak. A lump formed in his throat, and his head started to swim. He sank into her sofa, and held his head in his hands.

She could have said anyone on her squad or Dodds or half a dozen Captains and Lieutenants, and she had said him. He barely heard her bare feet on the floor as she came over and sat next to him.

"Was I wrong?" she asked. She sounded timid. Olivia Benson never sounded timid, except when she felt vulnerable.

"No, you weren't wrong," he said. He lifted his head, and place a hand on her cheek, tracing the outline of her cheek with his thumb. "You weren't wrong at all." She slid along his arm and curled up next to him while he placed his well-toned arms around her. Neither of them said a word as they savored the sensation of holding and being held.

"The whole time I was in there, all I thought about was Noah. If something happened to me, what happens to him? I'm not married; I don't have a family besides him, where would he go?" she said.

"I'd take him," Tucker said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to swallow them back up. It was too much, too soon. She didn't even want him to share a pizza with her son, let alone raise him. She raised her head and studied him.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Nothing, it was out of line," he said.

"No, say it again," she said. "but only if you mean it."

"I, uh," he cleared his throat. "I would take him, if it came down to it."

"You would adopt my son, and raise him as your own, if I died?" she asked, still studying him with her trained detective's eyes.

"Yes, I would. Because I would want to be with the one person in the world who loves you as much as I do," he said. She sat up and straddled him, perching on his knees.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" she asked.

"That I love you? Yes. I love you, Olivia Margaret Benson. I love you more than I ever thought possible to love another human being," he confessed. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly at first, and then picked up the intensity. His hands slipped under her shirt, resting on the bare skin at the small over her back. When she couldn't breath anymore, she broke the kiss.

"We can't do this here. He wakes up at 6:30 every morning, like clockwork. You have to be gone before he's awake," she warned. Tucker nodded in agreement. She stood up, took his hand and practically dragged him towards her bedroom, stopping only to close the door on the way.

He pinned her against the wall, pulled the clip from her hair, and tossed it aside. Twisting his fingers into her soft tresses, he kissed her again, feeling her arch aginst him and moan, ever so slightly. That tiny little moan went straight to his crotch, causing it to stir. He kissed along her jaw, back to the spot on her neck that drove her wild. He felt her hands fiddle with his jeans and he moved one of his to stop her.

"No, no…you just relax and enjoy it," he said. He moved her arms to he shoulders, then scooped her up and gently placed her on the bed. Her hair fanned around her face like an angelic halo, and he couldn't peel his eyes away from her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. He laid down on the bed and scooped her into his arms. "Absolutely nothing." He pulled her shirt off, noting her lack of a bra, and tossed it aside. He kissed her again, slowly making his way down her neck and across her shoulder. He took one of her breasts into his head, teasing and tweaking the nipple into a pert little point. She shivered under his ministration, yanking and tugging on his polo.

"Ed…." she whimpered. He pulled his top off to appease her, and he was instantly rewarded with her hands on every inch of skin she could reach, lightly dragging her nails over him. He lavished attention on one breast, kissing and sucking on it, eliciting sweet, sultry moans from her before switching and repeating his ministrations on the other one. She wriggled and squirmed under him, growing more frustrated in her desire.

"Please, Ed," she whimpered again.

"Tell me what you need," he murmured against her skin. She responded with a frustrated growl. "Tell me…" he repeated.

"I need you…in me…" she whimpered. He slid his hand past the waistband of her soft pajama pants to her core, discovering that she was absolutely soaked. He pushed two fingers easily inside her, pumping them slowly.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, still enjoying feasting on her breasts.

"More…" she whimpered. He used his thumb to work her clit as his fingers continued to pump into her. He moved to nibble at her neck again, covering her body with his. He could feel her legs start to tremble, and he knew she was close. He eased off her, eliciting a disappointed groan. He slowly dragged her pants and underwear off her, discarding his own pants in the process. In an instant, he was back on top of her, his rock hard dick pressing against her entrance.

"I need you," she whispered, as he slowly pushed in. He started with long, slow strokes, pausing for her to adjust to his size.

"You're beautiful," he said stroking her hair. He picked up the intensity following her cues until he was thrusting harder and harder inside her. She felt exquisite around him, molding to every nook and cranny. And, God, how he loved the way she felt. He reached down and rubbed he clit, and that was enough for her to come unglued in his hands. He watched her intently as she rode the waves of pleasure that coursed through her body, pleasure that **he** caused her to feel. He fought against nature and the vice grip she was creating around his dick to fuck her through it. As she slowly returned to her body, he reached his own climax, and spilled into her, biting his lip to resist crying out her name.

He lay on top of her panting until he had the energy to slip beside her and pull the blankets up around their naked bodies.

"Thank you," she whispered, after a long moment.

"For what?" he asked, not sure why she should be thanking him.

"For loving me," she said. He crooked his finger and placed it under her chin, lifting his face towards her.

"You never have to thank me for that," he said.

They held each other in the dark, not saying a word because there were no words to say. As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, Ed was thankful once again that death had been cheated again. He would protect her for as long as she allowed him.

For the first time in Ed Tucker's life, he finally felt complete.


End file.
